TRAINWRECK (2015)

Rated: R

STARS: Amy Schumer, Bill Hader, Tilda Swinton, LeBron James, Amare Stoudemire
DIRECTOR: Judd Apatow
GENRE: Romantic Comedy

If anything, the Amy Schumer vehicle, Trainwreck, will be remembered as the movie that turned sports legends LeBron James and Amare Stoudemire into comedic actors!  They pick up a surprising amount of "playing time" in this satirical romantic comedy written by Schumer and directed by Judd Apatow (Knocked Up, Bridesmaids).

As of late, Amy Schumer has grown in stature (if not baby fat) to be one of our most popular comics, her onstage routines embracing all things sexual and perverse in that deadpan self-deprecating style. She blows the cover off the blonde all-American girl next door to reveal what we secretly suspected all along--that she has a dirty mind. Trainwreck is her attempt at branching out from being typecast as a potty-mouthed one trick pony into something of a serious (at times) actor, with mixed results.

Not all of the humor flies, but enough of it does to keep theater audiences tittering at regular intervals. Schumer--playing a girl named Amy--is a writer for a Cosmo/National Enquirer type magazine, assigned by her snarky boss (Tilda Swinton) to do an interview piece with sports surgeon to the star athletes, Aaron Conners (Bill Hader). The stage is set for these two to fall for each other, but Amy has been a boozer and a naughty girl, going through men like they were bon-bons on Valentine's Day, and she naturally begins to mistrust her unaccustomed feelings of giddy attraction.

One of the cuter sketches is where Schumer turns the tables, doing a parody on men who can't stand to spend the entire night with their one night stands. Placing a pillow between them to mark her territory after she and Conners have officially become bed-buddies is just the start of some clever and funny OCD playing out between them.

NBA mega-star LeBron James heads up a contingent of sports personalities who are clients of Conners.  James displays some decent acting chops along with his phenomenal athletic prowess in some extended screen time that shows Amy Schumer did not intend to train the spotlight solely upon herself.  Amare  Stoudemire also gets more than a cameo role, in a scene where a distracted and addled Conners is preparing to operate on the athlete's knee, but Stoudemire decides he wants no part of it and clambers out of his hospital bed, staggering down the hall and going BOOM!

Another surprising sketch has tennis legend Chris Evert, Matthew Broderick, sportscaster Marv Albert, and LeBron James all together riffing off one another. CHRIS EVERT EVEN UTTERS A NAUGHTY WORD!  

Never saw that train coming.  


Grade:  B

JILL'S TAKE

Wow. Tim pretty much covered all the bases in this R-rated romp. If he hadn't already gone there, I was planning to praise LeBron's acting chops. He had a lot of zippy dialog and interacted well with both Hader and Schumer. Trust me, it won't be the last time we see him on screen. (Let's hope he's better at it than former athlete-turned-actor Jim Brown!)

I was also planning to mention Schumer's zaftig bod – well not exactly zaftig – as a realistic alternative to the usual anorexic actresses we watch doing the sexy. (Or, god forbid, Melissa McCarthy!) Her character's potty mouth and one-night-standish behavior may not be the norm but her figure sure is.

I guess the only other thing Tim didn't mention was Billy Joel's "Uptown Girl," played throughoutTrainwreck, because it's   Hader's character's favorite song to perform during surgery. Wonder what BJ got paid for letting them use it?

Sadly, I didn't enjoy this flick nearly as much as director Judd Aptow's other two contenders: The 40-Year-Old-Virgin and Knocked Up. It felt forced in places and played-for-laughs rather than reality. Maybe my objectivity was compromised because I couldn't find parking for nearly half an hour! (God bless southern California...)

Grade: C +

TED 2 (2015)

Rated:  R

STARS: Seth MacFarlane, Mark Wahlberg, Amanda Seyfried, Jessica Barth, Morgan Freeman
DIRECTOR: Seth MacFarlane
GENRE: Comedy

From the flashy Busby Berkeley-esque dance number at the get-go, I had the feeling that Seth MacFarlane was going to pull out all the stops for Ted 2, and I wasn't wrong. The teddy bear that came to life one day (thumpety thump thump...thumpety thump thump--oh wait, that was Frosty) is back, with his favorite human pal, John (Mark Walhberg). And they are up to more of the same hijinks that made the original Ted a smash.

Ted has married his gum smacking sweetheart, Tami Lynn  (Jessica Barth), and now they want to have a child. But being as Ted isn't properly "equipped" for the job, John agrees to become a sperm donor. I'll spare you the details of the havoc John and Ted wreak at the sperm bank. Let's just say it takes the gag that everyone remembers from There's Something About Mary to its furthest extreme! When Tami Lynn turns out to be infertile, she and Ted decide to adopt. But during those preliminary proceedings, Ted is declared not to be a person, and therefore disqualified from obtaining a child.. (In an era when even corporations are persons, there's something egregiously unfair about that.)

The plot thickens, and Ted and John look for an attorney to represent Ted in court so he can be declared a person, and they find one in the person of young Samantha (Amanda Seyfried). She's inexperienced and smokes a lot of weed, and though she's not exactly Atticus Finch in the courtroom, she and Ted will have their day, waxing poetically about the struggles of the oppressed throughout history.

MacFarlane never lets the action or the plot get in the way of a good sight gag, which he drops in totally out of the blue, wherever and whenever, giving the film a kind of haphazard, devil-may-care, batshit crazy kind of feel, but you gotta forgive him anything if it makes you guffaw like Goofy...least that's the way I look at it. The gags are often dirty, or biting, with pop culture references galore, and he's taking aim at plenty of targets. Several star cameos, from Tom Brady to Liam Neeson, add to the fun and merriment.

Despite it all, MacFarlane knows how to make you open your fanny pack and fish around for that tissue at the end. Ted just seems so real at this point...in fact, I would say to any young person who might ask: Yes, Virginia...there is a Ted...he exists as certainly as political incorrectness and fart jokes...

You get the picture.

Grade:  A

JILL'S TAKE

Seth MacFarlane is definitely an acquired taste. It's easy to imagine some folks being deeply offended by his sophomoric sight gags and in-your-face humor. Fortunately, I am not one of these individuals. And anyone who chooses to see Ted 2 should know (from the first Ted and A Million Ways to Die in The West) that there'll be lots of cameos (One Tim didn't mention is Jay Leno), lots of profanity, and lots of out loud laughter.

Did I think the sequel was as good as the first one? No. Did I thoroughly enjoy it? Absolutely. The original concept of a toy teddy bear turning into Mark Wahlberg's buddy bear was brilliant. By the second version, Ted is still endearing – in a crude, wise-cracking way. But I felt some of the situations were forced, that MacFarlane (along with the other two screen writers, Alec Sulkin and Wellesley Wild) was trying a little too hard to be outrageous. This was particularly evident with Donny, played with appropriate madness by Giovanni Ribisi. Hellbent on kidnapping Ted so he could steal his stuffing to produce more talking teddies, Donny's chase scene – peppered with comic book characters – was a little too over-the-top for me. Still, it didn't stop me from lapping up most of this campy cartoon of a movie.

Grade: B+

LOVE AND MERCY (2015)

Rated: PG-13

STARS: Paul Dano, John Cusack, Elizabeth Banks, Paul Giamatti, Bill Camp
DIRECTOR: Bill Pohlad
GENRE: Biopic


Mental illness is a scary thing. And make no mistake, Love And Mercy is a scary movie about mental illness--a biopic addressing critical periods in the life of Brian Wilson, co-founder and creative genius behind The Beach Boys. It's a tale of redemption. Of walking through the fire and coming out whole again. 

Wilson, who is played in his formative years by Paul Dano, and in middle-age by John Cusack, had been diagnosed as a paranoid schizophrenic by his doctor, Eugene Landy-- portrayed here with escalating creepiness by the brilliant Paul Giamatti.  Dr. Landy had been appointed as Wilson's legal guardian. He dominated and controlled every aspect of Wilson's life, eventually revealing himself as the actual sick puppy in the story. When a budding relationship develops between Brian and Melinda Ledbetter--a woman who had sold him a car--Landy does everything in his power to quash it. He is over medicating and overprotecting his "sick" client. And then there is Brian's abusive father.

Through it all, Wilson writes and goes into the studio to record new music for the Beach Boys, taking the band in a different direction creatively that not all--especially cousin Mike Love--are happy about. We hear the ethereal music that's playing inside his head. It's eerie, yet beautiful. That sums up the film as well.

Elizabeth Banks, as Melinda, shows off her acting chops as the woman who first falls in love with, and then becomes Brian Wilson's champion--the true hero of the story.

Under the inspired hand of director Bill Pohlad, Love and Mercy is a root-for-the-good-guy, packs a wallop with no punches pulled, yet ultimately touching film experience. 

 In fact, I'd say that anybody who isn't touched by this film is probably crazy. 

GRADE:  A


JILL'S TAKE

Call me crazy then. I absolutely hated this flick. I agree that Paul Giamatti's performance is outstanding – along with his ill-fitting toupee. But in my opinion, Love & Mercy deserves an "F." Why? When a main character, real or fictional, is as self-absorbed as Brian Wilson's character was, I lose patience. Just because someone is considered a musical genius (questionable in my opinion!) doesn't give them license to behave as erratically as Wilson did. Granted, mental illness isn't the same as a common cold. Still, even madness gets pretty boring after awhile. (I felt the same way about Ed Harris' portrayal of Jackson Pollock.)

But the other beef I have with this self-indulgent piece of drivel is the concept of two actors playing the same role. The viewer gets hooked on one story line and resents being pulled away from it by the other. At least the casting of Paul Dano as the younger Brian Wilson had some vague resemblance to the real person. But John Cusack with dyed black hair as the older Wilson? Gimme a break.

I didn't see this particular movie with Tim but I just knew he'd love it. And it's always a lot more fun to disagree on these reviews.

One last bitching point. During the end credits, we see Brian Wilson as he is today, singing "Love & Mercy." He looks as miserable and unhappy now as he did back when he was being manipulated and over-medicated. So much for mental health!

GRADE:  F

ALOHA (2015)

Rated:  PG-13

STARS: Bradley Cooper, Emma Stone, Rachel McAdams, John Krasinski, Bill Murray, Alec Baldwin
DIRECTOR: Cameron Crowe
GENRE: Romantic Comedy


If I had to sum up Aloha in one sentence, it would be: Impressive cast does what it can with what it had to work with.

Brian Gilcrest (the bankable Bradley Cooper) is an ex-military private defense contractor with a checkered past, coming home to Hawaii to help facilitate, in conjunction with the Air Force, the launching of a satellite--the pet project of billionaire Carson Welch (Bill Murray). While there, he steps into a romantic triangle involving his now married former girlfriend (Rachel McAdams) and the young Air Force assistant assigned to him (Emma Stone). In one scene, he is standing right between the two of them, and you can almost hear the refrain from that old song, "Three Coins In The Fountain" (which one will the fountain bless?) There is nothing terribly subtle about this movie.

There are a couple of nice scenes, though, and an appealing soundtrack. One where Emma Stone's character, Allison, is dancing with Bill Murray. I've always liked Bill Murray, so whatever he does, I'm grinning or smirking.  Even if it's contrived and too cutesy-poo to be believable. The other scene is the teary-eyed feelgood ending, which is worth the price of admission. Along the way we find out what Carson Welch's real reason is for wanting that bird up there, briefly touching on the what ifs of the militarization of space (currently there are treaties in place among the major powers to prevent that stuff from happening, but here it looks just too plausible for someone with deep pockets and an agenda to take matters into his own hands).

Aloha is getting panned by the critics, saying it's not up to director Cameron Crowe's other work (Jerry Maguire, Almost Famous), but you can't judge a rom-com by the standards of a serious drama. That's apples and oranges.  So we're grading on the curve. The question is, does Aloha fulfill the basic tenets of romantic comedy? Well yes it does. It follows the standard rom-com format of  boy gets girl--boy loses girl--boy gets girl back again. And when there is a  romantic triangle, it takes you to the last possible minute to delay which way things are going to go, to keep ya guessin' and on the edge of your seat. I, of course, had it figured out early on.... but then I'm a trained professional... DO NOT ATTEMPT ON YOUR OWN!!!

Aloha fits the definition of a "guilty pleasure."  You can see the marionette master's hands pulling the strings, pushing your buttons and manipulating your emotions,  but you are powerless to stop him...you old softy!

Grade:  B -

JILL'S TAKE

I've been taught that guilt—whether you're giving it or getting it—is unhealthy. But when it comes it "guilty pleasures," count me in! As I watched Aloha, I knew I was being manipulated, rooting for the right girl to get the wrong guy. (Who will transform into the right guy under her tutelage!) Sure, Alec Baldwin played Alec Baldwin. And John Krasinski played a monosyllabic husband that, in real life, no wife—military or otherwise—would tolerate. But romance is romance. And I'm as helpless as the next gal when it comes to staring into Bradley Cooper's blue, blue eyes. (Are they contacts, I wonder?)

I also loved the Hawaiian touches. The folklore and magic they played up. The music, the magnificent scenery. Hell, I even bought into the idea that blonde, Nordic-looking Emma Stone was part native. But then I watch ABC's "The Bachelorette" so I can't be trusted when it comes to liking syrupy schmaltz. Yes, I'm ashamed that I enjoyed Aloha as much as I did. But I never said I was Albert Einstein. (Or even Pauline Kael!)

Grade: B+

FAR FROM THE MADDING CROWD (2015)

Rated:  PG-13

STARS: Carey Mulligan, Matthias Schoenaerts,  Michael Sheen, Tom Sturridge
DIRECTOR: Thomas Vinterberg
GENRE: Drama

They don't make 'em like that anymore, I found myself thinking, after being swept up in this second film adaptation of the classic Thomas Hardy novel. The latest rendering of the tale is greater than the sum of its parts--with four accomplished performances from the lead actors, exquisite cinematography, and a captivating music score from Craig Armstrong--all combining in just the right measure to make Far From The Madding Crowd a masterful achievement. 

Carey Mulligan is the spunky Bathsheba Everdene, and the only misgiving I might have about casting her in the lead role is that she's rather a wisp of a woman, and in the nineteenth century methinks it may have been more commonplace for such a headstrong lass to carry a little more meat on her bones, which no doubt would have made it easier to "throw her weight around" with the men. That aside, Mulligan is a superb Bathsheba, who comes to Weatherby as the mistress of a manor-house and finds herself awash in suitors. There is Gabriel Oak (Matthias Schoenaerts), a shepherd in her employ; William Boldwood (Michael Sheen), a well-mannered gentleman; and the dashing military man--but certified head case--Frank Troy (Tom Sturridge). 

Thomas Hardy knew how to weave a tale--with the elements of fate, chance, and circumstance playing out in highly dramatic fashion. And if the story is to be believed as a reflection of the times, then folks didn't date or get to know each other much socially before jumping in with both feet. You'd meet a lady, and the next time you saw her you might be asking her to marry you!  I found myself thinking wistfully about all the expense and angst a poor guy could spare himself if the same quaint attitude were prevalent today. You pop the question early on...and get a thumbs up or thumbs down...or maybe a maybe-- but at least you've got something to go on. Not like today, where the participants in most relationships are so confused they can't tell if they're coming or going!

Maybe that's the crux of why I was taken in by Far From The Madding Crowd.   

Grade:  A  

JILL'S TAKE

Yes, indeed. A lot of romantic intrigue can happen on a sheep farm. (And not just with the sheep!) Far From The Madding Crowd is, in my view, cinematic escapism in the finest sense of the word. The scenery is breath-taking, the acting top notch. And I daresay Michael Sheen (of "Masters of Sex" fame) will be nominated for a Best Actor in a Supporting Role award next Oscar season. Because it's Thomas Hardy writing this tale and not Quentin Tarantino, there is very little bloodshed. And yet you can cut the tension with a sword, as swashbuckling psychopath Frank Troy does.

Does anybody remember a 1967 Swedish film titled Eliva Madigan? This film had the same lush cinematography and expansive score. It swept me willingly into a different time, a different place. I hated the villain and rooted unabashedly for the hero. It's a shame more movies based on literary classics aren't made. It was such a relief to see a film with no cell phones or madly texting heroines.

If I have anything bad to say, it's about Hardy's title. I had to look up the word "madding" (1. acting madly or senselessly; insane; frenzied: a quiet place far from the madding crowd. 2. making mad: a madding grief.)

Grade: A +

WHITE GOD (2015)

Rated:  R
STARS: Zsofia Psotta, Sandor Zsoter, and a Potpourri of Pooches
DIRECTOR: Kornel Mundruczo
GENRE: Art House/Drama/International 

Every dog has its day. But none more satisfyingly than in this quirky little Hungarian film--and I'm tempted to attribute its weirdness to just that--about canines taking over the city and getting revenge on everyone who had been mean to them. I like the premise, but...

There's a lot of really unwatchable stuff near the beginning taking place in a slaughterhouse/ meat packing plant--guts and innards spilling all over the place. Really gross--so only go if you've got a strong stomach. 

A young girl, Lili, takes her mixed-breed dog, Hagen, to stay with her divorced dad for a while, only the dad is a real A-hole and hates the dog. She takes Hagen to band practice  with her and her music teacher is another A-hole and hates the dog too. In fact all the adults in this movie hate animals. Hagen falls into the hands of some maniacally obsessed dog catchers, and then ends up in a dog fighting ring, and is exploited and abused until finally escaping and taking scores of other mutts with him as they rampage through the city on a dogged mission to settle the score with everyone who abused them. Lili is on her own quest to find and reunite with Hagen, who has now become the Fidel Castro of the canine world, leading his charges through the streets in what is the true genius and creative fascination of the film--the work of the animal trainers who pulled off some quite remarkable scenes.

White God (no explanation for the  title, other than God being dog spelled backwards) is a fantasy, horror flick, and morality melodrama rolled into one. The adult characters are all on a par with the Wicked Witch Of The West in their  mean-spiritedness, exaggerated  to the point of where you'd nearly expect a chorus of boos and hisses to come raining down in the theater, but they serve as a metaphor for the oppressors of the world getting their comeuppance from the downtrodden masses--exploited and treated like dogs until they rise up and revolt.   

Grade:  B  

JILL'S TAKE

Tim and I saw White God almost two weeks ago. When we left the theater, he mumbled something about not being sure he'd actually review it. I was secretly relieved as I didn't know what the heck I'd say about this really strange movie. In spite of it's ridiculous premise and one-dimensional script, I found myself rooting for Hagen and his four-legged minions. I also felt ashamed of the cruelties perpetrated on man's best friend by man. Still, as the end credits rolled and reality once again entered my consciousness, I turned to Tim and sighed, "What a waste of time that was!"

I especially balked at the premise that all mongrel dogs (here comes the metaphor!) were automatically seized and impounded. Like the Jews in Germany, the Christians in Iraq, etc. But it certainly gave you a dog's eye view of the world. Cars whizzing past; loud, unfamiliar noises; food as bait. And Hagen, whose real name is Luke—owned by the Arpád Halász' the head dog trainer—was amazingly believable.

Still... My advice? Go see Disney's 1955 animated classic Lady and the Tramp instead.

Grade: D

DANNY COLLINS (2015)

Rated: R

STARS: Al Pacino, Bobby Cannavale, Annette Bening, Christoper Plummer, Jennifer Garner, Giselle Eisenberg
DIRECTOR: Dan Fogelman
GENRE: Comedy/ Drama

In the opening scene, over-the-hill pop music legend Danny Collins (Al Pacino), comes onstage to sing his big hit, "Baby Doll," which sounds an awful lot like Neil Diamond's "Sweet Caroline"--only more innocuous and schmaltzy, if you can imagine. His legion of adoring fans--on the leading edge of baby boomdom--are lapping it up. (They must have LOVED "Sugar  Sugar" by The Archies.) Collins, who hasn't written a new song in thirty years, is resting on his laurels. 

At a birthday party, Collins' manager, (Christopher Plummer),  presents him with something that's going to change his life. It's a previously undelivered letter--full of encouragement--from John Lennon to the young up and coming singer. Upon reading it, Collins has an epiphany and decides to hole up at a quiet New Jersey hotel and write some meaningful songs. The other reason is that he'll be near the residence of the son he never met, the product of a backstage tryst.  Danny shows up on their doorstep and his son's wife (Jennifer Garner) gives him an earful about being a responsible parent before the none too pleased son  (Bobby Cannavale) shows up and essentially tells Danny to butt out of his life.   

From there, Danny Collins becomes a familiar tale of a man seeking redemption, along with trying to get in the good graces (if not the knickers) of coy hotel manager Mary Sinclair, played by the inimitable Annette Bening. 

There's a great John Lennon soundtrack that moves the action along, serving to remind us of what might have been had Danny Collins' fate taken a different turn. Al Pacino, as always, does a "bang-up"  job as a guy who has it all--except the things that really matter--a real charmer despite his life of excess and unaccountability. But I can't really buy him physically as a Neil Diamond type. There's still something a bit too gangster about his aura---maybe it's Pacino himself...or the goatee...or the way they've got him dressed that's one step removed from the zoot suit era--that makes it incongruous with the kind of  bubblegum ditties the character has built his career upon. 

Little Giselle Eisenberg, already with an impressive list of film credits, plays Danny's bouncy, precocious grand daughter. She may be the next Drew Barrymore if she keeps it up.   

Grade:  B

JILL'S TAKE

I always read Tim's reviews before adding my two cents. And this time he's pretty much covered all bases. Or should I say basses in keeping with the musical theme? Sure, Al Pacino is always Al Pacino. But some of his performances are more over-the-top than others. (e.g. Devil's Advocate) This time, thanks to the reining in of writer/director Dan Fogelman, Pacino keeps it real. Of course, seeing all those aging fans, made me squirm a bit. Are we all that ancient?!

I know this is probably a petty observation but when Pacino's character was sitting beside his possibly dying son (you'll have to see the film to find out if he does!), Bobby Cannavale's head was almost twice the size of his dad's. Maybe it was the way the scene was shot that created this disparity but for me it was distracting. My other qualm had to do with the new song, the first one in thirty years, Danny Collins created. It may have been a ballad instead of bubblegum but it was a mediocre song at best. I would've preferred one that gave me goose bumps. Still, it was an entertaining movie. And Christopher Plummer was wonderful, as usual. 

Grade: B +